In a short time Fanny was in the open air, and on her way to the

graveyard. As she approached her mother's grave, she said gently, "Luce,

Luce, why are you out so late?"

The person addressed partially raised her head and answered hurriedly,

"Oh, Fanny, Fanny, do not be frightened and leave me; I am not dead, and

never was buried in that grave, as you suppose, but I am here tonight a

living, repentant woman," and throwing back her bonnet, the thin, white

face of Julia Middleton was in the bright moonlight perfectly

distinguishable to Fanny, who at first recoiled in fear and leaned for

support against the marble pillar near which she was standing.

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She, however, soon recovered her self-command and glancing at the object

on the grave, saw that she was caressing Tiger, who seemed trying various

ways to evince his joy at finding one whom he had long missed, for he had

ever been Julia's favorite. Their fiery natures accorded well! Again Julia

spoke, "Fanny, dear Fanny. In an adjoining state I heard of mother's

illness and hastened to see her, but I am too late. Now, do not think me a

phantom, for see, Tiger recognizes me and welcomes me home, and will not

you?"

An instant Fanny wavered, then with a half-fearful, half-joyful cry she

went forward, and by the grave of the mother that day lowered to the dust,

the sisters met in a long, fervent embrace.

Into the best chamber of their father's house Fanny led the weeping,

repentant girl, and gently removing her bonnet and shawl, bade her lie

down on the nicely-cushioned lounge, while she went for her father. As she

was leaving the room Julia arose and laid her small, bony hand on Fanny's

shoulder. It had rested there before, for in the graveyard, with their

buried mother between them, Julia's arms had encircled her sister's neck;

but the first excitement was over, and now involuntarily Fanny shrank from

that touch, for in spite of all her courage, she could not help

associating Julia with the grass-grown grave, and the large white

monument.

"What is it, Julia?" she said calmly. "Do you wish to see father?"

"Oh, yes, yes," answered Julia, "but not him, the other one--at least not

tonight. You understand."

"I do," said Fanny, and she glided down the stairs toward her father's

room. He was awake, for ere her hand touched the doorknob, his sonorous

"Who's thar?" fell on her ear. This somewhat disconcerted her, for she had

intended stopping near his door, to devise the best means by which to

break the intelligence. But "Who's thar?" was again repeated, and entering

the room she said softly, "It's I, father."




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